#ak tf2 superhero au

[alinakerrin]

Speeding Bullet: Day Two: Spot

back at it again! This is sort of a continuation of day one, read here. thanks to @sniperscout-ship-week for infecting me and making me write this. It's waay shorter because my classes have started but enjoy!

Jeremy was sure that he was on some kind of watchlist by now, but it didn’t stop him looking up—again—”Australian sniper for hire”. Just like the last few times he had tried it, he didn’t find the name of the elusive assassin. He sighed in frustration and closed his laptop.

He was the only one who had gotten away. All the others that had tried to kill him had been taken into custody—for a while it seemed, because he’d heard they kept getting out—but this guy… this fucking Australian asshole just waltzes away with his stupid fucking smoke bomb.

Jeremy was pissed.

It had been a year since his powers appeared, in that time thirteen people had come to kill him, and twelve had been caught. They all knew each other too. The last lot—besides metal girl and Aussie gunman—worked together, all nine of them. They were coming from somewhere, he had to find out why.

He lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, trying to calm himself down so he could go to sleep.

The next day, as usual, Jeremey rushed through his morning routine and just about made it to the bus. He flopped into a seat next to his friends, trying very hard not to think about that sniper.

It didn’t work. He drifted off during his classes, and more than once someone asked him what was wrong. He wasn’t sure how he made it through the day, but before he knew it, he was at practice doing stretches.

“You good Sullivan?” His friend, Ethan asked, patting his shoulder. “You’ve been spacey all day.”

“Huh? Yeah, yeah. Just… missing summer ya know?”

Ethan nodded, “Yeah, it feels like we didn’t get to do everything we wanted.”

You’re telling me. Jeremy sighed. “Well, at least we’re back to playing, am I right?”

“That’s true.” Ethan nodded. “Come on, let's go.”

Jeremy spent most of practice just thinking. Perhaps the assassin would appear again. He should, since everyone else he had fought did and they got caught the first time. He would have to be ready. He couldn't let him get away again.

He went out as Scout that night. It was a quiet night, and he didn't really need to be patrolling, but he was hoping deep down that he would find the sniper. He rushed through the streets, up on roofs and in alleyways, searching high and low for something, anything that would lead him to the answer he sought.

It was nearly three in the morning and Scout was near to giving up, when he saw a laser pointer on the building next to him.

He stopped and took cover immediately. The laser didn't move. Scout glanced at where it seemed to be coming from, and tried to figure out how to ambush the person on the other end.

Wait, he thought, did the sniper use a laser?

He didn't think so—at least, he didn't remember one in the fight. It was pretty hectic, so he might be misremembering it.

Don't think, just go. He dipped out of sight and ran up to a vantage point where he could see the person shooting it was—

"Damn," he sighed. It was just a bored kid up late past his bedtime. Scout called it, and headed home.

Unbeknownst to him, Sniper watched him with amusement from the opposite building.

“Twitchy hooligan…” he muttered under his breath.

[alinakerrin]

Speeding Bullet: Day One: Pursuit

@sniperscout-ship-week infected me with brain rot so I'm trying my hand at doing some more stuff for the superhero au I'm working on.

He should have known the job was harder than it seemed. Who pays that much to kill a kid? But the offer was too good to pass up, so here he had taken it.

It had started fine; he had landed into Boston with no issues, using a fake name and fake passport, and arrived at the rented apartment he would be setting up in with no issues. After unpacking he spent a little time checking his gear and ensuring that no damages had been caused in transit.

He reluctantly ate, and then headed out to scout some locations for nests. It was pretty easy, all things considered. There were a lot of tall buildings near where he had been told his hit was often seen, so he had a lot of vantage points to set up in. He didn’t really need multiple locations--as he expected to be done after one shot, like always--but it was nice to have a few options.

How wrong he was.

After he had a few good locations he headed back to his apartment. He was too tired to be effective--and it wasn’t exactly covert to kill someone on his first day in the city. So he lay on the moderately uncomfortable bed, and thought about what he would do when he got the second half of his money.

Perhaps he would finally be able to go home. He doubted it--not after what he had done--but maybe, just maybe, he could sneak in. With that amount of money he could make the more complex tech ideas he’d been sitting on for the past three years.

Three years. Had it really been three years since…

He tried not to think about it. It was too painful.

The hit was at the end of the week--that was the original plan--his employer had informed him where his target would likely be and that they would be distracting him to make the shot easier. He’d been a bit pissed that they thought he needed “help” but in hindsight he wished they’d done a bit more.

He spent the week prepping. Checking his gun, making sure that he had all his gear, and finally, when the week was done, setting down an alibi. It was easy really. He just left the window curtain open and used a hologram to make it look like he was reading. It was a little thing, but given how there was a security camera on the opposite street corner, it should be enough that if his fake name hadn’t been enough that he would be fine.

It wasn’t like anyone at the scene would see his face, but he had to be sure.

He made his way to the nest he had picked out, avoiding cameras where he could and hiding his face where he couldn’t. Once he arrived, he changed into his usual gear--it was too distinct to be travelling to the hit in--and lay in wait for his target.

He was early. He always arrived early.

While he waited, he absentmindedly flicked through the different filters on his goggles. The half mask goggles weren’t technically his--not anymore--but he still had them. It wasn’t like anyone else could use them anyway. He settled on his usual filter, the one that made what he was seeing normal.

Half an hour passed before he got adjusted to the scarf on the lower half of his face. Like always, he thought. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just… warm and it took him time to forget that it was there.

He pulled out his gun and did some last minute checks. As usual, it was fine. Better safe than sorry.

Afternoon fell into evening turned slowly into night, and the time for the hit was coming close. He was getting nervous--there had been no indication that anything was happening, and no sign of his target. He double-checked that he was in the right spot. He was, but there was still no sign of them.

“Come on,” he growled, and his leg started to bounce. He gripped his knee tightly. He needed to be still. The time came, and there was still nothing. Feeling like he was going to explode, he gave in to the urge to pace. It would be fine. He could still see the square the target would be in, and he had his gun on him. He could trust his reflexes.

At least, he thought he could.

It had happened so fast; a crashing sound from the square, screams and sirens. He whipped around to see—“What the bloody hell?”

Locked in combat were two people--one male, one female. The police were trying to mitigate the fight and evacuate the area, but it seemed like anything they tried didn’t stop them. As he looked closer the male was--

“Fuckin--” he quickly loaded his gun and took aim. They were exchanging blows and his target kept leaping and rolling away. After taking a moment to track his movements, he pulled the trigger.

“Fuck!” He reloaded, and took aim again.

That was his first warning that this job was one he should back down from. Because the Sniper never missed and the fact he had was bad news.

The fight was drawing to a close, his target was winning, he took a deep breath and pulled the trigger again.

“Shit!”

Once more he reloaded, this time not bothering to wait a moment, and took aim and shot as fast he could.

And that time, the target whipped around, and looked right at him.

“Fucking, pissing hell.” Sniper growled. He reloaded, and out of the corner of his eye saw the woman crumple to ground, and his target was moving and HOLY SHIT WHY IS HE SO FAST—

Sniper was knocked off his feet, pinned to the ground with his gun pressed horizontally against his throat. On top of him was his target, angry and determined.

“Who are you?” He demanded. Sniper tried to push his gun up—so he could breathe—but his target held firm.

“Who are you?” He asked again, pushing down on him.

“Do—do you always sit on your enemies or am I special?” Sniper croaked out. He needed to get out. He weighed up his options. If he had known he might get cornered he would have set up a teleport point. But since he hadn’t…

“Answer the goddamn question,” his target said, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Trying to get on a first name basis?” Sniper said, subtly moving his left hand to change the mode his gun was in. “Bit early don’t you think?”

“You work with her don’t you?” He nodded back to where the woman he had been fighting was. “Who sent you?”

“Sorry.” Sniper reached for the trigger and pulled, shooting a grappling hook into the far wall. His target jumped and in that brief moment of surprise, Sniper kicked out and escaped from under him. He pulled the release mechanism on the gun and ran from the room.

He couldn’t outrun him, but maybe he could throw him off.

There was a fire escape just down this corridor, all he had to do was get there. He dropped a smoke bomb as he ran, faster than he ever had before, jumped through the window and over the railing of the fire escape.

Pulling his coat inside out to activate the cloaking and pulling his scarf and goggles off, Sniper made his way into the crowd of people being evacuated. Just before he disappeared into the throng, he cloaked his hat and glanced into the alley. His target was nowhere to be seen.

Safely back at his apartment, Sniper collapsed onto his bed and tried to process what had just happened. Heis target… he had moved too quickly to be a normal human.

Sniper hadn’t expected to meet another one like him. Especially not here.

He pulled out his phone and called his employer. It was time they had a chat.

[alinakerrin]

June Prompt: Tattoo

Keeping the motivation going, here’s prompt six!

It was a cool autumn night when Heavy saw it. It had been a long day; lots of meetings and maintenance, but no response calls, and everyone had turned in early. Heavy had stayed at the dinner table for slightly longer than most of his other teammates—his muscle mass required more calories than the average person—and thus it was dark by the time he retired to his room. His pace quickened when he remembered that Medic had muttered something about not having any experiments to check on tonight; thus giving them a whole night together.

When he arrived at the door, he briefly considered knocking, but remembered how often Medic would simply barge in without warning, and instead walked in without pause. He was surprised to find the room was dark. Medic often stayed up reading before bed—it was something that had brought them closer, as they would recommend books to each other—but the main room’s lights were off. Instead, a sliver of light shined from under the en-suite. Heavy’s heart hammered in his chest as his mind was filled with, frankly, indecent thoughts.

Those thoughts were dashed from his mind when he heard a pained noise. Filled with concern, Heavy opened the door before his mind could catch up. Medic was leaning on the sink, head hanging low, his breathing laboured. He was clutching at his left forearm with an painful grip, his nails digging into the flesh.

“Doctor?”

Medic whirled around, and Heavy was horrified to see the terror in his eyes; like he wasn’t even seeing him.

“M-Misha?” He took a shuddering breath, then spun back to the sink, turning on the tap. He splashed some water on his face, muttering, “Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Are you alright?” Heavy asked, more as a formality than anything.

“Ja, I’m fine. I’ll join you in bed.”

Heavy didn’t move. “Let me see arm.” Medic froze.

“Is it hurt?” He asked, moving closer, holding the doctor’s left elbow. “Do you need me to bandage?”

“...nein.” Medic sighed, “It’s… it’s mental.”

Heavy studied his face carefully. “It’s… about that?”

Medic nodded, and seemingly unable to speak, he moved his hand and showed Heavy his forearm. He found it odd that he had never seen this part of Medic before, or perhaps he had just never noticed the six black numbers tattooed on his skin: “1 3 5 4 9 3”.

“It’s a constant reminder,” Medic said, his voice slightly more even, “I’ve tried getting rid of it… but my powers… it grows back.”

“I am sorry doctor,” Heavy said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “It is terrible.”

Medic laughed; a breathy, strained laugh so unlike his usual cackle, “I’m more annoyed that it still bothers me.” “Of course it does. I still am too.” Heavy laughed at Medic’s shocked expression, “What? You think I don’t get sad about the war?” “I… I suppose I hadn’t thought about it.” “You are allowed to be sad, dorogoi. Don’t be angry about it.” Heavy pressed a kiss against the tattoo, “I think you are very brave.”

“Sweet-talker,” Medic scoffed fondly. He sighed, “I'd like to sleep now, I think.”

Heavy hummed, “Alright doctor… you will be alright.”

“We will be alright.” Medic amended. And Heavy believed him.

[alinakerrin]

June Prompt: Block Party

And I’m back! Honestly had no clue what to write for this prompt so I gave it my best shot XD the prompt list I’m using is here

Jeremy—not Scout, not today—sat by himself at the edge of the party, glancing up every so often, to smile at the antics of his friends, before looking back at his phone.

☀️🔥🌷🔥☀️ r u coming to the party 2morrow?

⚡🏃⚡💨💨💨💨 Course buddy, I wouldn’t miss it! It’ll be way better than this one I’m at. They don’t even have sweets.

☀️🔥🌷🔥☀️ 😱 is that even a party????

⚡🏃⚡💨💨💨💨 Shouldn’t be tbh. I wish I was back on the base

☀️🔥🌷🔥☀️ do u miss sniper?

⚡🏃⚡💨💨💨💨 I miss all of you But yea, I miss snipes.

☀️🔥🌷🔥☀️ he misses u 2 he’s real grumpee

⚡🏃⚡💨💨💨💨 Give him a hug from me yea?

☀️🔥🌷🔥☀️ he doesnt like hugs from any1 but u

      “Sullivan!” Jeremy looked up, and one of friends beckoned him over. He shook his head, pointing at his phone and shrugging.

Roo You busy Snipes?

      He waited impatiently, staring at his phone, hoping that no one would invite him to drink again.

❤️ Clint Eastwood ❤️ Just finishing a meeting with Pauling Why, you having a bad time?

Roo Kinda? Idk, it’s more fun getting drunk with you guys

❤️ Clint Eastwood ❤️ That’s cause Medic always sings when he’s pissed

Jeremy snorted.

❤️ Clint Eastwood ❤️ And Heavy always starts flirting with him in Russian

Roo I wish I knew what he was saying tbh I mean, we all know what he’s talking about But not specifics

❤️ Clint Eastwood ❤️ He mostly repeats the phrase “Handsome doctor”

Roo Since when do you speak Russian?!!??!

❤️ Clint Eastwood ❤️ Everyone needs a hobby

Roo Ok I’m tabling that until I’m back on base and then you’re gonna tell me everything

❤️ Clint Eastwood ❤️ Sounds like you just want to know how many languages I can talk dirty in

Roo Noooo… not completely ;)

❤️ Clint Eastwood ❤️ Mongrel <3

      Jeremy glanced up to see a gaggle of jocks in a drinking competition, and grinned when he saw one of his friends under the table passed out.

Roo I’m gonna go drink now I miss you

❤️ Clint Eastwood ❤️ I miss you too Roo Chin up, yea?

Roo 🤙

[alinakerrin]

June Prompt: Fairytale

So it’s 4 am here, and I got smacked with inspiration thanks to @creativepromptsforwriting‘s June prompts, so here’s a tf2 short I did. It’s from a superhero AU I’m working on, so here:

It was ironic that Heavy was a light sleeper. He had always struggled to sleep, even as a boy; the creaking from the house, the howling wind, even the sound of his sisters’ breathing—all of it kept him awake. So it was no surprise that the gentle sound of crying from Pyro’s room woke him instantly.

At first he thought maybe Pyro wasn’t crying; maybe they were giggling quietly. They often found joy in the smallest of things, and it wasn’t out of the question that they might be playing with their stuffed toys at night.

But as it continued, he knew he had been right the first time. His older brother instinct took over, and he was walking down the hall before he realised what he was doing. As gently as he could—not wanting to wake anyone else—he knocked on the door.

The crying stopped instantly.

“Pyro?” He said, “Can I come in?”

There was a quiet shuffling noise, then, the door opened, and he saw Pyro hiding their face behind a giant stuffed unicorn that they clutched to their chest. They had a bright pink onesie on—one that matched the unicorn they clutched—and the hood was pulled up, further obscuring their face.

“Are you alright?” He said, placing his hand on their shoulder. They clutched the toy harder.

“I’m sorry…” They whimpered, their usually hoarse voice even harsher, thin and strained.

“No need, solnyshko,” he said, pulling them in for a hug, “You are sad? Can I help?”

Pyro looked at him over the top of the unicorn. “Aren’t you tired?”

“No.” Heavy lied, “Couldn’t sleep.”

Not a full lie technically.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, solnyshko. You want to talk about it?”

Pyro bit their lip, then beckoned him into their room. It wasn’t one Heavy had been in before, but it was definitely what he imagined. Everything was pastel; the sheets, the curtains, the carpet, the furniture, along with most of the clothes strewn across the floor. In one of the corners, a heater was on full blast, drastically increasing the temperature. Pyro curled up on the bed, still clutching the unicorn. Heavy carefully stepped over the landmines of toys and clothes on the floor, and sat next to them.

“What is wrong?” Heavy said, when Pyro didn’t immediately start talking, “Did someone hurt you?”

Pyro shook their head. There was a brief moment, while they gathered their thoughts.

“You’re from ‘Ussa, right?”

“Russia, yes,” Heavy corrected gently. Their grip tightened on the plushie.

“Do you miss it?”

Heavy hummed, thinking hard, “Not quite… I am very happy here—happier than I have been in a long time—but sometimes I think of Russia and I miss something. I think, I do not miss Russia: I miss how things used to be.”

Pyro was looking at him, wide-eyed.

“Why do you ask solnyshko? Do you miss home?”

Pyro nodded. Heavy smiled at them kindly.

“Is alright to miss home, is ok to feel sad.” He paused for a moment, before adding, “Talking can help. And if there is something I can do, I would like to help.”

Pyro thought for a moment, “I like it here too. I like unicorns, onesies, and sweets. I like my friends. I like sleeping. But sometimes I can’t… sometimes I think about home and I get sad. I miss my elects…”

“Elects?” Heavy asked.

“Um… I don’t know the human word… they made me?” “Oh, they are your parents?”

“Do parents make you?”

“Sometimes. Some parents just take care of babies others made.” Pyro looked enthralled by this concept, but Heavy spoke again before they could divert the conversation too much, “You miss your ‘elects’. I miss mine too.” “Really?”

“Really. Miss my father most.”

“Why?”

“He is dead.”

“Oh,” Pyro looked like they were about to cry all over again.

“Is alright. He died protecting me and sisters. Was a good man.”

“It’s still sad though.”

“Yes… but that’s ok. Being sad is not a bad thing. Sometimes you have to be sad. But if you would like to feel better, maybe I can help. Is there something your elects did when you were sad?”

“Um… they would tell me stories a lot. About things they did.”

Heavy hummed, “Would you like me to tell you a story? I do not have many of my own, but humans make lots of stories.”

“How many?”

“Too many to count! I love to read stories, but even I have not read everything. I could live as long as you and still not read it all.”

“Woah,” Pyro said, “Could you tell me one? Pretty please?”

“Of course. Get into bed, and I will tell you a story my father told me.” Heavy said, as Pyro scrambled under the covers, “Ready? Ok. Once upon a time in a faraway land, there lived a mighty tsar. The pride of the tsar’s kingdom was a magnificent orchard, second to none. However, every night a firebird, with golden feathers and eyes like crystal, would swoop down…”

Heavy recited the story as best he could—translating it into English as he tried to remember the details. Pyro seemed enraptured by his every word, they looked shocked when the prince was killed and relieved when he came back to life, and was overjoyed when he and the princess were married in the end.

“And they lived happily ever after.” Heavy finished. “How was that?”

“That was super cool!” Pyro stage-whispered, “Humans have more stories like that?”

Heavy chuckled, “Humans have lots of stories. Stories like that one, stories that are very different. There’s lots to choose from.”

“Can you…” Pyro trailed off, until Heavy gestured for them to continue, “Can you tell me some more, sometime?”

“Of course, solnyshko. I will tell you bedtime stories.”

Their bright smile was almost worth the exhaustion Heavy felt the next day.

[alinakerrin]

June Prompt: Fruit Stand

One more today! I’m caught up now! Thanks to @creativepromptsforwriting for making this monthly prompt list, it’s been fun! This is another tf2 superhero au one (as all of them will probably be tbh), I just changed the prompt slightly because of sniper.

“Ruddy, fruit shop owners,” Sniper muttered, reloading his rifle. He didn’t even know why he was on this mission, really. Miss Pauling had asked him, and seeing how stressed she looked, figured it must be a difficult hit. But Spy and Demo were more than enough for this sect of robots—those that were left over from the war, hardly worth their bullets—and he was really just watching them destroy the warehouse. He was providing some covering fire, he supposed, but neither of them were in any danger. This mission hardly needed three people—let alone the four that had been sent.

“The fuck does that even mean?” Scout piped up from behind him, making him glance back. He wasn’t even in uniform—having neglected to activate his suit—instead he leant against the wall scrolling through his phone. He didn’t even look at Sniper as he spoke. “You say that at least once a mission and I still don’t get it.”

“What? The fruit shop quip?” He said, turning back to blast the head off a Heavy bot that rounded the corner.

“Yeah! What kinda insult is that?”

“Well, it’s a sniper thing.”

“It’s a sniper thing, arg look at me, I’m so cool,” Scout mocked.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“Yes, you do.” Scout got up and moved to sit next to him instead, “Come on, tell me about sniper things.”

Ignoring how his heart fluttered at Scout’s conspiratorial tone, “There’s a part of the brain called the medulla oblongata, snipers call it the apricot. It’s the best place to aim for a clean kill.”

“So calling them a fruit shop owner is because....?”

“Cause they’ve got a lot of apricots out there.”

There was a brief moment of silence before, “Nerd.”

“Oi!”

“My nerd,” Scout amended, leaning in to press a kiss on his cheek, not bothering to remove the cloth separating them, which Sniper was glad of as it hid how flushed his face was getting.

“Need a hand here!” Demo yelled down the coms, and the pair jumped apart, focusing back on the fight. While they had been preoccupied, a giant Heavy had appeared and was throwing debris at Spy—which Demo was just about able to deflect.Scout tapped his heels together, and as his suit engulfed him, he flashed Sniper a grin.

“Shoot those apricots for me, alright babe?”

“Fuck ‘em up, love.” Sniper agreed, looking after the blur that was Scout running to the heart of the fray.

[alinakerrin]

June Prompt: Garden hose

Still doing catch-up, so here’s the second one. Once again, check out @creativepromptsforwriting‘s June prompts.

“Stop!” Scout yelled, as Sniper hit him with a blast of water from across the garden again. “I swear to God Sniper, I will put that hose up your ass.”

“Sounds like a fun time to me,” he chuckled, and ducked as Scout threw a clod of dirt at him.

“Garçons, please!” Spy said, skirting past them, “I would hate for my house to be destroyed before I have moved in.”

“It’s a christening!” Scout said, shrugging like that would absolve him.

“I would rather christen it by drinking after everyone is gone,” Spy said, placing the carton of plants by the door of the greenhouse, “Not by being hit by soil.”

The whole team had offered—demanded—to help Spy move in, and given just how much stuff he had accumulated over his many years, he had no choice but to say yes. They had already got all the boxes into the house, and most of them were unpacking and organising everything. Spy had chucked Scout and Sniper out into the garden for misbehaving, demanding that they follow his garden plan—which Scout was still reeling from, who has a garden plan, what the hell—and stay away from the breakables.

“You’re just scared of your suits getting dirty,” Scout said back.

“Or wet,” Sniper added.

“There’s been worse on them,” Spy said, looking unimpressed.

“Like blood?” Scout suggested innocently.

“Not what I was thinking, but yes, blood.”

“You’ve had worse than blood?” Sniper looked incredulous. “What’s worse than that?”

“Other bodily fluids,” Spy said, in a tone that was meant to be bland, but only increased their interest.

“Which ones? Spy, which fucking fluids?” Sniper called after him, but Spy didn’t answer. Sniper and Scout exchanged a horrified look, before Scout did a full-body cringe, covering his face with his hands.

“Fuck I don’t wanna know. It better not be cum—fuck it is, isn’t it. It’s fucking cum. I’m gonna die, Snipes.”

Sniper hummed looking down at the hose with an evil smile. He took aim and pulled the trigger. It took Spy and Medic to pull stop the resulting water fight, both muttering about children in their native tongues. Scout flicked water at him, making him chuckle.

“You’re an ass,” Scout said, going to sort out the plants that Spy had left. Sniper intercepted him, kissing him on the cheek before taking the plants.

“This ones on me, Roo. You wouldn’t know what to do with a plant if it gave you instructions.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I kept a cactus alive once.”

“You’re a regular Carl Linnaeus, love.”

“Who?”

“He’s the bloke that named a bunch of plants.”

“Huh… what would you name a plant?”

“Depends,” Sniper said, potting the first tomato plant. “If it’s a scary fucker I’d have to give a scary name.”

“I’d name mine after the Red Sox.”

“Yeah that tracks.” Sniper said, “I think that might work out ok. As long as the plant’s red. Although maybe there’s irony if it isn’t.”

Scout didn’t respond, and when Sniper turned to look at him, he was blasted in the face with water.

“You fucker!” He spluttered, as Scout laughed hysterically, setting off yet another fight. Spy sat back this time, watching Heavy and Medic admonish the pair, trying not to feel too fond as he watched his son hit Sniper with his sopping wet baseball cap.

[alinakerrin]

June Prompt: Ice Cream

And I’m back again, with another tf2 au fic! prompt list is here

Engineer was trying his best not to lose his temper. Pyro was making them stop every five seconds to ask more and more questions about everything. He understood why, it was just getting difficult to answer all their questions without snapping.

“What’s that?” Pyro gasped, running to point at the brightly coloured spheres, which floated in the ocean.

“Buoys,” Engineer said, keeping his voice level. “They’re to tell people where it’s not safe to swim.” “Swim?”

Engineer pointed to a gaggle of people in the water, “That’s swimming. You’ve never swum?”

“No,” Pyro said, shrugging, “I can’t touch that stuff.”

“You can now,” Engineer pointed out, “You’ve got a human form.”

Pyro bit their lip, “Is it safe?”

“Well I wouldn’t start you off in the ocean. That is dangerous. But maybe we’ll go to the pool sometime, start there.”

“What’s a pool?”

It continued on like that until nearly midday, when Engineer had had enough, and decided to introduce Pyro to something he knew would quieten them.

“Two cones, please and thank you,” he said, handing over a few dollars. Pyro watched the man swirl the ice cream onto the cone with utter fascination.

“Toppings?”

“Uh, just a flake for me. You want rainbow sprinkles?” Engineer asked. Pyro, too enthralled to speak, nodded instead, their eyes wide and bright. Engineer chuckled, “Rainbow sprinkles and a flake on the other please.”

When he handed Pyro their cone, they mutely stared at it, like it was the most incredible thing they had ever seen, and continued to do so until they were half-way down the beach.

“You not eating it?” Engineer asked, as he tried to prevent melted ice cream from running into his gunslinger.

“You can eat this?” Pyro said, whipping around.

“Course! It’s cold though. Have you ever eaten anything cold?”

Pyro shook their head, then eyed the ice cream. In an act most would call sacrilegious, they bit into the cream, then winced.

“You should probably lick,” Engineer suggested, “And pace yourself. You don’t want brain freeze.”

“Brain freeze?” Just as they said that, their face scrunched up in discomfort and their hand went to their forehead.

“Sorry partner, I shoulda warned you sooner,” Engineer chuckled, “Don’t worry, it’ll pass.”

After the brain freeze passed, they continued on, and Pyro eventually finished their ice cream.

“Engie?”

“Mm?” He replied, licking his fingers clean of ice cream.

“Thank you.”

“Ah it was nothing. Besides, it’s a nice day.”

“No not just… no just for that.” Pyro stared down at the ground, “You’re always really nice to me, and you help me with human stuff, and… you make it better to be here.”

Engineer, at a loss, patted Pyro’s shoulder, “I’m… I’m real glad I can help. I know it must be awful hard for you.”

Pyro nodded, then grinned at him, “It’s better with all of you.”

Engineer felt maybe, just maybe the incessant talking had been worth it for that moment. Even when Pyro started to ask about sand not long after.